Tales of the Unexpected Ravenclaws
by Silver Sailor Ganymede
Summary: Drabbles involving Ravenclaw!Rose, Ravenclaw!Albus and Ravenclaw!Scorpius. New: Rose is trying to concentrate on Quidditch. Albus is more interested in getting an acromantula to fly.
1. On the Naming of Things

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

_**(A.N: I'm going to post a load of drabbles under this title. All of them will involve Ravenclaw!Scorpius, Ravenclaw!Albus and Ravenclaw!Rose during their time at Hogwarts.)**_

Tales of the Unexpected Ravenclaws  
By Silver Sailor Ganymede

I. On the Naming of Things

"We still need to come up with a name for ourselves, you know," Albus piped up out of the blue that evening.

Scorpius glared up at the other boy, wondering why he was so obsessed with naming everything; his broom had a name, his wand had a name – hell, Scorpius wouldn't have been surprised if every one of his quills had a name, too. He wished, however, that Albus could decide on a name by himself so he and Rose could get on with what they were supposed to be doing, i.e. working on their Transfiguration essays.

"A name for ourselves?" Rose asked him, perplexed. "What do you mean by that?"

Scorpius groaned and threw down his quill. Albus had caught Rose's attention now, which meant that there was no way he would be able to concentrate.

"I mean we need a name for ourselves," Albus replied, as though it was obvious what he was talking about. He had a tendency to do that: talk absolute nonsense and assume that everyone understood him. Indeed, he sounded rather like something from the Quibbler sometimes, Scorpius thought.

"In what sense?" Rose asked, still not quite comprehending what Albus meant.

"Well, my dad and your parents were the Golden Trio, so why don't we be the Bronze Trio?" Albus asked.

Rose sighed, shook her head and turned back to her work.

Scorpius shot Albus a scathing look. "We are _not _going to name ourselves anything, let alone that."

"Why not?" Albus asked.

Scorpius sighed. "Because, Potter, I don't want people to assume that you, Weasley and I come as a package."

"Yes we do."

"No we _don't_," Scorpius shot back. "And besides, even if we were to give ourselves a collective name, which we're not, it's not going to be that one. The 'Golden Trio' had a ring to it, but your idea doesn't sound anywhere near as good. Bronze Trio indeed... It makes us sound awfully third rate, doesn't it? You know you should have been a Gryffindor with stupid ideas like that!'"

He went to continue his work but five seconds later Albus spoke again.

"We still need a name, guys."

Scorpius shook his head. "It's times like these that make me wonder how on earth you got sorted into Ravenclaw."


	2. Nargles

Nargles

"Oh look, Scop; there's mistletoe above us," Albus said, his usually dreamy voice sounding even more far-away than ever.

Scorpius glared at him. "I don't care. I'm not moving; I'm comfortable reading right here, thanks, and I know you're just trying to get my seat by the fire."

"No, Scop; there really is mistletoe," Albus repeated, "Look!"

Scorpius sighed and looked up, knowing that he wouldn't get any peace if he didn't. He realised that, unfortunately, Albus wasn't lying and they really were under the mistletoe.

"I'm not going to kiss you if that's what you want," Scorpius said curtly.

"That wasn't what I meant," Albus said, sounding confused. "I just meant that the Nargles are going to infest your brain if you don't move, that's all."

Albus drifted away to another part of the common room and Scorpius noticed that Rose was trying – and failing miserably to stop herself from laughing.

"Rose, would you care to enlighten me as to what a Nargle is?" Scorpius asked, but Rose just kept on laughing.

Scorpius turned back to his book; Nargles be damned. He was comfortable here and he wasn't about to lose his seat by the fire just because Albus thought that there were invisible creatures invading the mistletoe. No, Nargles and Albus' crazy ideas be damned; he was not going to move.


	3. How a Malfoy and a Potter Started Dating

How a Malfoy and a Potter Apparently Started Dating

"Potter!" Scorpius snarled upon entering the common room. "Would you care to explain to be exactly how you and I apparently started dating?"

"I don't think we ever have dated," Albus replied. "If you want to, though, we could always…"

Scorpius interrupted him; he did not want to hear the rest of that sentence. "You see I too was under the impression that we are not and never have been lovers. My father, however, seems convinced of something else entirely and is threatening to disown me!"

"Whatever do you mean?" Albus looked at him, appearing even more perplexed than ever.

"I mean this," Scorpius replied, shoving a piece of parchment into Albus' hands. "Apparently I wrote a letter – that letter, in fact, to my father professing my undying love for you and informed him that he'd never be getting any grandchildren."

"But you don't need to profess your undying love for me."

"Albus that is not the point!" Scorpius howled in despair. "The point is my father just received a letter that I apparently wrote – and sent it back with annotations in the margins detailing how he's going to curse me next time he sees me, and a note at the bottom telling me that the only reason I've not been disowned is because mother's threatening to divorce him if he does."

"But that's not your writing," Albus said.

"I know it's not my bloody writing because I never wrote that letter!" Scorpius shouted.

"It's a good forgery but I can tell it's not yours. Your Ss are slightly more slanted and your Ms are sharper. If anything it looks a bit like a cross between your writing and James'."

James. Of course. His latest prank had gone way too far.

"Albus, I am going to kill you brother!"

"Don't bother," Albus replied. "Aunty Luna's already informed me that the wrackspurts will probably have eaten his brain by the end of the week."

Scorpius growled; James Sirius Potter was going to have far worse things to worry about than wrackspurts if he had anything to do with it.


	4. Herbology

IV. Herbology

"I despise Herbology," Scorpius howled as he traipsed into the common room, brushing the dirt off his robes. "I absolutely despise it."

"Only because you're still failing it: some Ravenclaw you are," Rose observed.

"I'm only failing it _because_ I hate it," Scorpius shot back as he sat down near her and Albus, who seemed to be attempting to count the number of stars on the enchanted ceiling of the common room. "It's servants' work, that's what it is."

"You sound just like your father," Rose sighed. "You know that it really doesn't suit you when you act like this, don't you?"

"So what if I sound like my father? I'm only saying it because it's true – who needs to learn glorified gardening?" he huffed. "And anyway, I'm not like my father and well you know it. If I was really like my father then I'd be calling you a mudblood and not deigning to so much as look at you!"

"Don't. Use. That. Word!" Rose shrieked, her book falling to the floor with a thud as she leapt to her feet.

"I was only using it to illustrate a point," Scorpius snapped back. "And anyway, you were the one who started this by accusing me of acting like my father."

"And right now you are!" Rose replied. "Bugger this, I'm going to bed." With that she flounced out of the common room, her book lying forgotten on the floor where she had just been sitting.

Albus looked up at Scorpius and shook his head.

"What? I was only complaining about Herbology!"


	5. A Different Species

V. A Different Species

"Scorpius, what's the name of the newest species of dragon they found about four years back?" Albus asked.

"The Icelandic Ironfang," Scorpius replied. "Why?"

"Care of Magical Creatures essay," Albus said. "And you?"

"Ancient Runes."

"We have an Ancient Runes essay?" Albus said, looking surprised.

Scorpius suppressed the urge to groan; trust Albus to have been daydreaming when the work was set. He was about to explain this when there was a loud crash and Madame Browne, the librarian, was seen dragging a sniggering James Potter and Freddie Weasley out of the library by their cloaks.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor. Each. And don't you laugh; this is far from funny; Professor Longbottom will _not _be pleased when he hears about this, I assure you!"

"I wonder what James has done now?" Albus mused.

"Something stupid," Scorpius replied. "I know exactly what species your brother is –_Idiotus Totales_."

"No, he's not" Albus replied. "He's _Gryffindorus Typicales_, subspecies _Weaster_."

Scropius groaned. "I was trying to make a point, Asp…"

"Oh, right," Albus blinked. "But Uncle Rolf told me a while ago that that's what he is. Just like Rose and I are _Ravenclawae Typicales_, subspecies _Weaster_. And you're _Ravenclawae Anomalae_, subspecies _Malfoy_."

Scorpius glared at him. "Yes, I know it's odd for a Malfoy to have been in anywhere other than Slytherin, but you don't have to keep telling me that!"

"I didn't say that," Albus replied. "But that's what species you are – _Ravenclawae Anomalae_. At least you're not the same species as my brother, right?"

"True," Scorpius replied. "And you're a different species altogether, Albus – sometimes I wonder if you're even fully human, the weird things you spout out."

"Hmm," Albus mused, glancing down at his essay. "Maybe I'm part dragon?" he suggested.

Had Scorpius not thought it undignified to do so, he would have been hitting his head against the table right about now.


	6. Dragon Boy

_**(A.N: Thanks to **_**Pyromaniac-Girl**_** for inspiring this.)**_

VI. Dragon Boy

When Albus walked into the Common Room that evening with what looked like dragon wings where his arms should have been, Rose was exasperated but not at all surprised.

"What have I told you about messing around with experimental transfiguration?" Rose sighed at him. "I'd have thought that you'd have learned your lesson after you somehow managed to transform Matthias Belby's owl into some sort of weird cross between a normal owl and a Chinese Fireball…"

Evidently, though, he hadn't.

"It was amusing watching him try to tie his letters to that thing's leg while it breathed fire in his direction," Albus said. "Maybe I should do that again?"

"No you shouldn't," Rose said curtly. "We could all do without that. And what did you do this time? I'm assuming you were attempting to turn yourself into a dragon or something equally as daft."

"Scorpius," Albus replied by way of explanation.

Rose groaned; she really should have guessed.

"Why did Scorpius turn you into a half-dragon-thing?"

Albus frowned. "I'm not too sure. I mean he looked kind of tired, so I asked him if the Nargles were bothering him. Then he told me to sod off and I explained to him that if he was bad tempered as well as tired then he was obviously possessed by a Mumbling Moon Bat. And then he hexed me and said I'd ruined his chances with Preethi Patil, but I have no idea what he meant by that."

Rose shook her head in absolute disbelief. Albus was so oblivious, but then again Scorpius might possibly be even worse…

"Alright, Dragon Boy, let's turn your wings back into the arms they're meant to be," Rose said, pulling out her wand, but Albus backed away from her.

"No; I like my wings! I'm meant to have wings!" he said, flapping said wings in the air and terrifying a group of second years whilst doing so. Then he stopped, a stupid grin appearing on his face. "Dragon Boy? I like that. I sound like a muggle superhero! You know, like the ones in the comic books Rodney Vines has up in the dorms?" Then he frowned. "So if I'm Dragon Boy, you must be Superintellect Girl, and Scorpius is…"

"Lovesick Pratman," Rose said icily, wondering when Scorpius would finally get it through his head that Preethi Patil, who was in James' year and quite possibly the prettiest girl in the school, just wasn't interested in him. But of course that was about as likely to happen as Albus actually letting someone turn his arms back to normal…

As Albus began the first of numerous attempts to fly around the Common Room, Rose made up her mind to tell Rodney Vines not to let her cousin read any more stupid muggle comic books.


	7. Boys and Broomsticks

VII. Boys and Broomsticks

"I swear by great Merlin's beard that there's no way on this earth that you will get me on one of those things."

Rose groaned in frustration; Scorpius Malfoy was easily ten times as stubborn as his father (or her father, come to that). She had been trying to convince him to get on a broom all morning, but so far her attempts had yielded no results whatsoever.

"Your grandfather was one of the best seekers Slytherin ever had, and apparently your father wasn't that bad either," Rose said icily. "So why won't you even try to fly properly?"

"I will only 'try to fly properly'," Scorpius replied through gritted teeth, "if someone places me under the Imperius curse."

"But flying lessons start next week," Rose howled. "If you don't at least try then we'll lose points!"

"They can dock as many points as they want," Scorpius replied. "Anyway, your cousin doesn't seem to be too keen to get on a broomstick either – why aren't you nagging him to death about it?"

"Albus and brooms make for a disaster," Rose replied, sighing and pointing over to where her cousin was sitting, threading leaves together and talking to himself in his usual odd way. "The last time he flew a broom, he decided to jump off it and try to fly like an owl. Of course he ended up breaking his leg by doing that…" She thanked Merlin mentally that she had inherited her Aunt Ginny's talent for flying, and wondered for the thousandth time where Albus' utter lack of sense had come from.

"But he's the son of _Harry and Ginny Potter_," Scorpius replied. "How can he possibly _not _fly well?"

"And you're the son of Draco Malfoy and the grandson of Lucius Malfoy – how can _you _possiblynot fly well," she retorted.

"I. Don't. Like. Heights," Scorpius growled out eventually, his normally pale cheeks flushing a dark red. "There we go, Weasley: your ploy to figure out my weakness and forever embarrass me with it has succeeded. Are you happy now?" He stalked over to where Albus was sitting, humming merrily to himself, leaving Rose on her own with a broomstick on either side of her.

As Scorpius sat down and pulled out a book, and Albus carried on knotting leaves together into what was probably meant to be a bracelet, Rose let out an exasperated sigh. Evidently she would be the only one of them trying out for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team next year.


	8. Quidditch, Bats and Heliopaths

VIII. Quidditch, Bats and Heliopaths

"The next time Vines messes up I swear to Merlin that I'm going to turn him into a bloody bat!"

Scorpius was used to the violent outbursts Rose had after Quidditch practice. She'd been like this ever since she got onto the team in their second year, and so he'd long ago learnt to ignore her when she was in one of those moods.

It was only when the table in front of him cracked straight down the middle that Scorpius realised that Rose was in an even worse mood than ever. If the first training session of the season had annoyed her so badly that she was losing control of her magic, well, he didn't think she should have been chosen as Quidditch captain.

"Why exactly do you want to turn Vines into a bat?" Scorpius asked as Rose flung herself down onto the chair next to him. He winced when he noticed that she was getting mud everywhere.

"Because he's as blind as one already!" Rose all-but shrieked. "He only blocked a handful of the goals we tried to get, and he's the best keeper we had out of all the people who tried out!"

"And you're one of the best chasers Hogwarts has had in decades," Scorpius pointed out. "People are saying that you're even better than your aunt Ginny was when she was our age, so it's not surprise that he couldn't block your attempts at scoring. Did he manage to block Alderton's attempts at scoring?"

"Yes, but…"

"And Jones'?"

"Well, yes, but that isn't the poi…"

"Then I hope you realise that you're being utterly illogical," Scorpius replied curtly. "It's not that Vines is bad, which he isn't, by the way, because have you seen how awful the Hufflepuff, Slytherin and Gryffindor keepers are this year? It's just that you're very, very good."

"I know that," Rose replied and Scorpius rolled his eyes, wondering if and when her ego would ever deflate. "But we won't win the tournament this year if only I'm any good, will we? And we have to win this year; James is captain of the Gryffindor team now and he'll be _completely _insufferable if we lose. You just don't get it, Scorpius. You never do!"

With that she stormed off up to the dormitories. Scorpius removed the mud from the sofa with a flick of his wand, then gazed over at Albus and realised that the other boy was staring at him, confusion evident on his face.

"What is it, Albus?"

"Well, I don't understand what Rose's going on about bats for," Albus replied. "Everyone knows that it's Heliopaths that severely affect co-ordination."

Scorpius groaned, wondering for the thousandth time what on earth had possessed him to ever become friends with the insane spawn of the Weasleys and the Potters; at this rate it wouldn't be long until he went mad, too.


	9. The Case of the Disappearing Glasses

IX. The Case of the Disappearing Glasses

The day had not begun well for Scorpius. He had been awake for all of ten minutes and he was already in a bad mood. Upon opening his eyes and reaching over to get his glasses from their usual place on his bedside table, he had found that they weren't there. This was most odd, as Scorpius made a point of putting them in the same place every night. It was also extremely annoying, firstly because Scorpius did not like things being disorganised (Rose and Albus more than made up for him in that respect, sadly), and secondly because, much as he refused to admit it, he couldn't see a thing without his glasses.

Scorpius had never quite been able to work out why his eyesight was so poor. He had the same eyes as his father and grandfather, but both of them had perfect vision. Indeed, Grandfather Lucius was in his eighties had still had better eyesight than Scorpius. Life just wasn't fair.

He made up his mind to go and search for his glasses; if Rose was in the common room then she'd probably help him find them. After having spent the better part of five minutes feeling his way down to the common room, and nearly tripping down the stairs twice in the process, Scorpius was met with a place that, while full of people, was devoid of anyone with curly red hair. He groaned in irritation as he realised that Rose was obviously at Quidditch practice again. How in Merlin's name was he supposed to find his glasses now?

It was then that he caught sight of a blob of green, which appeared to be holding something that looked like a muggle comic book in its hands and was humming the Ballad of Odo the Hero to a slow, funeral-march-like tune. Scorpius came to the conclusion that even if Rose wasn't there, Albus certainly was, for despite not being able to see clearly, he knew for a fact that it was Albus. After all, who else had an unhealthy obsession with the colour green, an equally unhealthy obsession with muggle comic books, and was insane enough to sing the Ballad of Odo the Hero to himself while sober?

Despite being certain that Albus would probably tell him that a Niffler had stolen his glasses (something not entirely outside the realms of possibility, Scorpius mused), he decided to ask the boy about his mysteriously missing glasses anyway. Then, as he sat down, Scorpius noticed something very, very strange. Albus was wearing glasses. Albus did not wear glasses, and he most certainly did not wear square, silver-horn-rimmed glasses with the letters S and M etched into the arms.

"Potter," Scorpius found himself growling. "What do you think you're doing with my glasses?"

"I'm wearing them, of course," Albus replied nonchalantly, completely oblivious to the threatening tone in his friend's voice.

"I can see that," Scorpius snapped. "But why exactly are you wearing my glasses? You _know _I can't see a thing without them!"

"Well firstly it's because some girls in the Lily's year kept trying to tell me that I'd look exactly like my dad if I put glasses on," Albus replied. "So I borrowed yours because you're the only person I know who wears glasses. Well, the only person in Ravenclaw who is my friend and whose glasses I knew I could borrow without getting killed. And then the girls told me I did look just like my dad, but then I told them that of course I didn't because dad's glasses are round, and anyway, I have mum's nose and freckles so it's impossible for me to look exactly like dad."

Scorpius blinked, torn between hexing Albus for stealing his glasses and being utterly perplexed by the fact that the other boy had given him a sensible answer to a question for once.

"Of course there is another reason," Albus continued and Scorpius felt himself sight involuntarily. He should have known that Albus' momentary sensibility was too good to last.

"And that would be?"

"Well, Aunty Luna told me that you can see the Wrackspurts better if you wear glasses," Albus replied. "And seeing as your glasses are so strong, I thought they'd be the best ones to borrow if I was to have any chance of seeing a Wrackspurt. I don't think I've seen one yet though." Then he stopped and frowned. "What are you doing up so early on a Saturday anyway?"

"I came down to see if Rose could help me find my glasses," Scorpius replied. "And instead I found… this."

"Oh," Albus said. "You could always use accio next time. And by the way, do you want your glasses back? I just remembered that Wrackspurts usually hibernate on Saturdays."

Scorpius already felt a headache coming on, and he didn't think it was entirely down to the fact that he couldn't see properly.


	10. Careers Advice

X. Careers Advice

"Albus, what do you even want to do when you leave Hogwarts?" Scorpius sighed. "You're taking NEWTs in Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Muggle Studies, Herbology, Charms and Transfiguration, for goodness sake. I mean it's not a combination that leads _anywhere_."

"I don't even need NEWTs," Albus replied. "I'm going to be a professional Crumple-Horned Snorcack tamer."

Scorpius groaned. "And if you can't be a professional Snorcack tamer? What are you going to do then?"

"Well then I'll be an artist," Albus said, smiling. "I'm going to send off some of my Dragon Boy comics to a muggle company."

"But what if…"

"You're obviously possessed by a Heliopath at the moment," Albus practically sang. "Therefore I'm not going to listen to you. Not all of us want to be brainwashed by the government to go on and join the Ministry, you know."

Scorpius growled to himself, wondering why he ever bothered trying to help anyone.

"You know" Albus said at last, "if you want to bother anyone with careers advice then it should be Rose. She's still convinced she'll be able to go off and play for the Holywood Harpies."

Scorpius decided not to waste his breath telling Albus that the team was called the _Holyhead _Harpies – or that Rose had already been offered a place on the reserve team. She had been telling them about it all month, and if Albus was really dense enough not to realise then, well, maybe faffing around drawing muggle comics was the best thing for him.


	11. Doxies and Divination

XI. Doxies and Divination

Whoever had convinced Albus to take Divination ought to be murdered – preferably very slowly and painfully. Scorpius had had to spend the past two hours listening to Albus going on about the fact that he was going to die soon. It wouldn't have been so bad, he thought, if the boy hadn't had a manic expression on his face the whole time.

"And to top it off I had a dream last night where I had turned into a lily," Albus was prattling on. "Not Lily, that would have been terrifying, but a lily. You know, as in the flower. And that obviously means Professor Trelawney was right and I'm going to die because lilies are what you give people at funerals."

"I cannot believe that I'm saying this, but I really think that you ought to listen to James for once," Scorpius sighed. "You _know _Professor Trelawney predicts the death of at least one student every year – and amazingly enough none of them are dead yet."

"But I've been getting so many bad omens," Albus wailed. "I'm going to di…"

"Albus Severus Potter! I am going to _kill_ you!"

Rose had stormed into the room, fury on her face and murder in her eyes. Albus went paler than a Grey Lady and fell into the nearest armchair.

"I'm sorry, Rosie," Albus yelped. "I didn't mean… I'm so… Please don't kill me!" He cowered behind his hands, looking like a kicked Crup.

"If you didn't want me to kill you then why did you do this to my broom?" Rose shrieked. It was then that Scorpius noticed that Rose's new Thunderbolt had been painted acid green. "And don't try telling me it was James. You're the one who's obsessed with the colour green, and this is too obvious a prank for your brother to have pulled it."

"It wasn't a prank," Albus howled. "I painted it green to ward off the Doxies! I was only trying to help."

Rose growled, looking like it was taking all her self-control to stop herself from hitting her cousin over the head with her broom.

"And how do you propose I fix it then? If we lose the match against Gryffindor because of this…"

"Just polish it," Scorpius sighed. "It's not going to have any effect on how well you fly. I may not like Quidditch but even I know that much."

Rose's expression immediately brightened. "If that's the case then do you think I could charm the whole team's brooms blue and bronze for the next match?"

"Probably," Scorpius shrugged in reply.

Rose left the room, a much happier look on her face.

Albus looked up in astonishment and grinned manically once again.

"Scorpius."

"What?"

"I'm not dead! Professor Trelawney must have read her omens wrong."

With that he pulled another of his infernal muggle comics from his bag and started reading it.

Privately Scorpius was glad that Albus was still alive; he couldn't bear to think of how annoying it would be to have his friend haunt him for all eternity. He'd never get any peace and quiet again if that happened.


	12. Cake

XII. Cake

Scorpius' family had never really approved of his passion for cooking. They said it was work that should be done by house elves and commoners, but certainly not by Malfoys.

That was why, upon coming to Albus' house for dinner, Scorpius had insisted that he would make a cake. He had done it in the muggle way, earning himself confused glances from Albus' mother and approving nods from Rose's (who, according to Rose, was a dreadful cook even with the aid of magic. That, flying and chess were the only things Hermione Weasley had ever been bad at).

Eventually there was a very large, chocolate cake on the table and an equally large group of Weasley-Potters staring at him as though he were the most peculiar thing they had ever seen. Whoever would have expected that a Malfoy would a. be sorted into Ravenclaw, b. not be smarmy, slimy and arrogant and c. be good at _baking _of all things? Rose's father, of course, was missing, apparently convinced that any food made by a Malfoy would be laced with poison. It was almost enough to make Scorpius wish that Grandfather Lucius hadn't been such an evil git.

Only James and Albus weren't staring at him in shock – James had his head in a bowl and was trying to eat all the melted chocolate ("You're causing a complete mess, James you pig!" shouted Rose), and Albus was staring at the cake with a bemused smile on his face: even more bemused than usual, which meant that he was going to say something that would make Scorpius feel as though his brain was melting.

"Who came up with the idea of cake?" Albus asked.

Scorpius groaned, not wanting to waste his breath on answering that question.

"What _are_ you on about now?" Rose asked.

"Who came up with the idea of cake?" Albus repeated. "I mean who would think of mixing flour, eggs, butter, sugar and chocolate would leave you with a cake? You'd have to have wrackspurts in your ears to… Got it! Wrackspurts invented cake!"

Scorpius didn't know whether to start laughing or crying when he heard this.

"Al," Rose sighed. "Just shut up and eat."

Al shut up and began to eat the cake in such a way that Scorpius finally realised that he and James were indeed related.

"Hey Scor, is bread like cake?"

Scorpius groaned; if Albus was going to continue asking stupid questions, this was going to be a very long day indeed.


	13. Mermaids and Fish

XIII. Mermaids and fish

Albus looked pensive again, and Scorpius knew from experience that whenever Albus appeared to be thinking, something bizarre was going to happen.

"Do mermaids eat fish?" he asked at last.

Scorpius shrugged. "Well I'd assume so, seeing as they live in water and fish would be the main source of food. Unless they can survive entirely on plants, which I doubt."

Albus frowned. "Wouldn't that be a form a cannibalism though?"

"Do I even want to ask how you came to that conclusion?"

"Well mermaids are part human, part fish," Albus replied. "And because they're part fish, a mermaid eating fish is cannibalism."

"Amazingly for you that almost makes sense."

"So if mermaids are part fish, part human and mermaids are cannibals, does that mean mermaids eat humans as well?" Albus mused.

Scorpius shook his head in response. He didn't even want to think about the answer to that.


	14. Tea

XIV. Tea

Scorpius supposed that he should have known better than to invite Albus round to Malfoy Manor for tea. His mother and grandmother were trying their best to smile and be pleasant, but his father looked horrified to be sharing a table with the Potter spawn whilst his grandfather looked frankly bored.

Albus was sitting opposite Scorpius with his usual dreamy grin on his face, a piece of cake in one hand and a cup of sweet, milky tea clutched in the other. Scorpius' own tea was black with lemon, for he couldn't stand milk or sugar.

Then Albus got one of those looks on his face again and Scorpius realised that he had done something very, very stupid by bringing the boy home with him.

"What a lovely set of tea plates you have, Mrs Malfoy," Albus said to Scorpius' mother.

"Excuse me?" she said, perplexed.

"These plates you put your teacups on," Albus replied. "They're quite lovely. I do like green things. Nothing bad is ever green."

"Except the killing curse," Scorpius' grandfather said snidely. Scorpius could have sworn that he saw his grandmother kicking his grandfather under the table for that remark.

"Albus, those are called saucers, not tea plates," Scorpius muttered into his own cup of tea.

"And the cakes are lovely as well," Albus chirped. "Did you make them, Scorpius?"

"What do you mean, did he make them?" Scorpius' father scoffed. "That's house elf work."

Scorpius, knowing what was coming next, started fiddling with his glasses in agitation and hoping that Albus would shut up.

"Scorpius likes baking," Albus replied. Upon seeing the horrified looks on Scorpius' family's faces he added, "What, didn't you know? Scorpius makes the best cakes."

"I think we'll be having the rest of our tea in the garden," Scorpius said hurriedly as he noticed his grandfather's eyes darkening.

"But I'm comfortable h…"

"We're having our tea in the garden," Scorpius hissed, dragging his friend to his feet.

Albus tripped over the chair-leg, sending the saucer he had been holding flying. It smashed to pieces on the floor.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Malfoy. I appear to have broken one of your tea plates."

Scorpius groaned and hid behind his hair, not wanting to see the looks on his parents' or grandparents' faces. He really, really should have known better than to invite Albus to the house for tea.


	15. Albus and the Dark Lord

XV. Albus and the Dark Lord

"My dad's Harry Potter."

Scorpius had been sleeping in the same room as Albus Severus Potter for nearly three weeks now, so he was already used to the boy coming into the dormitory and calling out stupid things for whomever was in there to hear. This, however, was by far the stupidest thing the boy had yet said.

"Yes, Potter, we all know who your father is," he sneered.

Of course the effect was completely spoiled by Rodney Vines asking "Who?" immediately afterwards.

Scorpius was torn between wishing that the muggleborn wasn't there and being thankful that he hadn't been alone in the room when Albus showed up. He couldn't quite figure out which of the two he detested more – Potter or Vines. It was an impossible choice.

"Harry Potter," Scorpius snapped. "He was responsible for getting rid of the Dark Lord, who was the most powerful dark wizard our world has ever known."

"'The Dark Lord'," Rodney scoffed, disbelieving. "That's a bit of a stupid name for a dark wizard. Way too cliché."

"That's not his actual name, Vines," Scorpius groaned, wondering whether his fellow Ravenclaws should have been in Ravenclaw at all. They were so _stupid_.

"No," Albus said. "His actual name was Voldem…"

"Will you not say that word?" Scorpius hissed, resisting the urge to put his hands over his ears.

"What, Voldemort?"

Scorpius gave in and put his hands over his ears. Both Albus and Rodney were looking at him as though he'd gone mad.

Scorpius eventually decided that it was safe to uncover his ears, but unfortunately not.

"My dad's Harry Potter," Albus was still saying. If it had been anyone else, Scorpius would have thought they had gone into shock, but Albus Potter's eyes really were always that glazed over.

"What, did you think someone else was your dad?" Rodney asked.

"No," Albus replied. "I've always known my dad was my dad… I just didn't know he'd killed the most evilest wizard of all time until I found it when I was in the library today."

Scorpius really couldn't believe this. "We've been here since September 1st. It's now September 16th. You had access to the Hogwarts library for _weeks_, and you're seriously telling us that you've only just found out that your father is quite possibly the most famous person on the planet? Oh, and then there's the fact that you lived with your father for eleven years before coming here, too, but you still didn't realise? Really?"

"Exactly! I knew you'd understand," Albus said with a smile.

Scorpius sighed, wondering how in Merlin's name Albus Potter had managed to get himself sorted into Ravenclaw. The boy had to be the most oblivious person that Scorpius had ever met – and not in a good way either.

He decided he was going to cast a silencing charm around his bed before Potter and Vines drove him completely mad.


	16. Flying Spiders

XVI. Flying Spiders

All Rose wanted to do was come up with a decent strategy for Ravenclaw's next Quidditch match. That was all she wanted. Just this one, tiny, simple, very important thing – but apparently that was far too much to ask for.

Albus was distracting her again. He wasn't even saying anything and he was _still _managing to distract her. He was currently sitting right next to her on the sofa… though maybe 'sitting' wasn't quite the right word for it, as Albus was currently upside down, staring intently at the pictures in his Care of Magical Creatures handbook and trying to stop his glasses falling off his head.

No, not his glasses – Scorpius' glasses; Albus had stolen them again. He didn't even need glasses himself, and Rose didn't want to ask why he was so intent on borrowing Scorpius' all the time. If she did ask, she'd probably be treated to some stupidly long discourse about how glasses helped to ward off Blathering Bumblemice – or whatever Albus' latest imaginary creature was. She couldn't be bothered to listen to him right now; she had to concentrate on Quidditch.

As if on cue, Albus spoke.

"Why don't we get giant flies?" Albus said, closing his textbook.

Rose groaned; the only type of 'fly' she wanted to think about was flying. As in Quidditch. As in Quidditch strategy so Ravenclaw didn't lost the match.

"I don't even want to know what you're talking about, do I?"

"Well, we have Acromantula, which are giant spiders," said Albus as he began to fiddle with Scorpius' glasses.

"I _know _that, Albus," Rose snapped, hoping that Albus didn't break those glasses. Scorpius would kill him if he broke yet another pair.

"So why don't we have giant flies? I mean, giant spiders can't exactly survive off normal sized flies, can they?"

"Acromantula don't eat flies, birdbrain. They eat centaurs, unicorns, humans – anything and anyone careless enough to wander across them, really. Which is why I keep telling you and Scorpius not to go into the Forbidden Forest, but will you listen to me? No. Because you're too preoccupied with stupid daydrea…"

She stopped. Albus obviously wasn't listening. He'd sat up straight and grabbed Rose's Quidditch notes.

"Albus Severus Potter, if you ruin my Quidditch plans I will kill you until you are dead!" Rose almost shrieked, snatching the parchment away from him.

Albus was either ignoring her threat or was actually as oblivious as he seemed.

"I wonder what would happen if you put an acromantula on a broomstick?"

Rose considered pointing out that a. you'd never find a broomstick big enough, b. giant spiders were completely the wrong shape to ride brooms and c. you'd get eaten before you'd coerced one into going anywhere near a broom, but she decided not to; getting an acromantula to fly was a lot more plausible than ever being able to talk sense into Albus.


End file.
